11 of 30. The Almost Summer of Beer


I am falling behind.
Always waiting for that light
to roll over the bridge
or for the flowers in our garden
to bloom.

The city gets pretty in spring time.

We eat together more,
and it gives me patience
that I don’t have for
the rest of the world.

Love grows in the window
of our neighbors,
night after night
the same gold glow of lamp.

It doesn’t burn, but it’s there.

Outside my own window is a circle of chairs.
A BBQ that lasted all day,
is yawning into beer pong by moonlight.

Everyone is drunk on the moon;
the possibility that summer is really coming
tomorrow.

Women are shaving their legs as I fall asleep
for 83 Fahrenheit on a Monday.

My shorts, my feet are dirty.
I hear the crack fizz of a can
so close I can almost kiss the
mouth of a beer that is still years away.

I pull my sheets up around me.

Always falling behind
for something.

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About amyleighcutler

Writer, dancer, vagabond extraordinaire
This entry was posted in 30 in 30, Photography by Amy Leigh Cutler, Poetry, Summer and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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